Ficlet Medley
by Wicked Enough
Summary: /UNRELATED, 100 word drabbles/Ficlet 46: PAIN/ Hannya!Centric: Sometimes, bringing pain is for a worthy cause.
1. Ficlet 1 :: Wanderer

**Wanderer  
**  
It had been many years since he had a place to call home. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... Ten.  
Ten years of walking, reflecting on himself. It was like reliving history, but this time, he could foretell exactly what would happen.  
One... Brutal pain.  
Two... Exhausting anguish.  
Three... Miserable nights.  
Four... Tears of the fallen.  
Five... Throbbing hurt.  
Six... Mocking memories.  
Seven... Grieving of angels.  
Eight... Hidden despair.  
Nine... Stabbing recollections.  
Ten... Forever remembrance.  
His amethyst eyes wandered over the small dojo he was now familiar with. He could hear birds chirping loudly. Voices...  
"Kenshin, lunchtime!" 


	2. Ficlet 2 :: Honor

**Honor**  
  
Nothing, absolutely nothing in the world is as strange as honor. Honorable death was a good death. Murdering others for revenge was honorable. Stealing for a cause, all honorable.  
What is honor?  
Simply the thoughts of another, who wanted deeds of horror to be glorified.  
What else is honor? Surviving for another when they died protecting you? Yahiko wandered through the thoughts that ran through his head.  
Kenshin had taught him honor, but that honor was different. That honor was good. That honor was to be remembered.  
How do you choose between good honor and bad honor?  
What is honor? 


	3. Ficlet 3 :: Leader

**Leader**  
  
Misao had to always be strong, never making any mistakes. Never. She was the Okashira now. No asking for help when there were simpler ways out; thinking for herself. She was the leader.  
She had to point her weapons to the sky and take charge. She must never doubt her methods, or herself. She will ask for only respect, nothing else.  
She will once again glorify the name of the Oniwa-Banshu. Citizens years from now will talk of her glory.  
But sometimes... What of terror in her heart? What of _her_ doubt?  
Was it too much to ask to cry? 


	4. Ficlet 4 :: Love is Painful

**Love is Painful**

It was so very ironic how everything turned out... Her true fiancé dead, and she, the woman who vowed to find his killer, in love with the very murderer.

Would she risk her life—perhaps even die for him?

The answer, of course, was yes.

Tomoe knew that if danger was heading for her red-haired lover, she would instantly go to him and shield his body with hers.

That is why, when she saw him, bleeding and pained, but still fighting, her soul flew, along with her body.

And as the two blades pierced her body, killing her, she only hoped he wouldn't forget her.


	5. Ficlet 5 :: Smiles

**Smiles**

He is described as a puppeteer's most cherished work, almost like a true child. He is like a slave, but everything is done willing. No matter what, he would always stand by his master. No matter...

But...

But does he like the killings? Does he like standing in the line of fire, knowing he wouldn't die, but still crying inside--deep inside-- for those he knows will?

His blue eyes devoid of all feeling, not love, pain, sadness, anger. All but for obedience. But inside... he's crying.

That's why, as he watched the man's eyes clear of life, Tenken no Soujiro, right hand man of Shishio, smiled.

Fake.

Broken.

Untarnished.

Empty smiles.


	6. Ficlet 6 :: Questioning

**Questioning**

The question that rang through her pretty head was one so commonly asked she felt it was a mantra for the infatuated.

Does he love me?

She knows that a much better question would be to ask if she, Kamiya Kaoru, the woman, loves _him_. Smiling, blushing to herself, she answered with sound resolute.

Yes.

But... Does he love me?

Will she have to go through all the pains of supposedly sweet love, bitterly alone?

Where was her confidence when she needed it? No, never mind that.

She tapped on the shoulder of a red-haired man, barely taller than her.

"Kenshin, I have a little question to ask you..."


	7. Ficlet 7 :: Fangs

**Fangs**

You could never touch a killer without knowing what you're up against.

It was like you never stuck your hands inside the mouth of a wolf.

He knew what it was like being the wolf. He hated being touched. Nothing could get through the touch exterior and see what was inside. The sadist comments, the cruel face used for intimidating criminals, were all part of the charade of life.

Not even Himura, the ex-Battousai now Rurouni, with his wide, soul-searching eyes, could ever get inside of his mind. No one could.

He was a hardened wolf born with the Meiji.

You could never touch a wolf.


	8. Ficlet 8 :: Witch

**Witch**

There was a certain art to making herbal cures. To put just enough of this in, to grate it so it was just the right texture, to make sure that the potency of the mixture was just right...

It took dead concentration, and she did not like to be interrupted as she did it.

It was her time to think. Not of her patients. Not of Sanosuke, Kenshin, or anyone else. Not of anything else, but herself. Her reflection.

Lovely, clever, foxy Megumi. The one who all the villagers were pleased to be treated by.

Who knew that she was once a witch that killed?


	9. Ficlet 9 :: Killings

**Killings**

It should have been all a foggy memory by now. It _should_ have been.

But ten years of not killing, another side, a darker side of him, did not fade as easily as it should have. He mused to himself nightly... Would he always have to have that darker side with him? Will he die with it, buried within?

Will that killing spirit inside of him never rest? Even when he was fighting to protect... He was fighting both his opponent and himself. Every slash of the sword was a challenge.

Would this cruel demon inside of him never rest? Will it never... disappear?


	10. Ficlet 10 :: Prices I Paid

**Prices I Paid**

Falling in love with the most unlikely character was something she never expected to do. All she could make out of her life was that she was to be whored out to only the richest. There was no emotion in the job, only quiet deceit.

She had been a displeased courtesan, feeling nothing but contempt for the new era, which did nothing to make up for what she had been through.

But then she met him... The one she would follow to the very depths of hell.

Oh, the prices Yumi had paid to be with Shishio.


	11. Ficlet 11 :: Simple Sign

**Simple Sign**

The most simple thing in life is admiration. You wish to be like someone. You want to be... them.

That was what Sanosuke felt about his captain, Sagara Souzou. Absolute respect in it's most pure form.

In the eyes of a child.

There were no lies in emotions. They are the most truthful of things. Who doubted a child's words?

He wasn't a child anymore. They didn't believe a bitter young man. They didn't care about a being in the crowd.

He could only use his fists. That was how he felt better.

A simple sign to the Meji.


	12. Ficlet 12 :: Fireflies

**Fireflies**

They flickered in front of her like sparkling jewels. Memories... The things he said... His arms wrapped around her thin frame, holding her like... a lover... How her heart fluttered like a rabbit in the last moment's of its life. Her breath had caught... She couldn't imagine not meeting him.

He was part of her family... He was a part of her heart.

And now... Maybe something else.

He walked in front of her, his eyes glowing with strange, yet lovely,emotions... And knelt in front of her, a ring in his hands, reflecting the moonlight.

"Kaoru, will you marry me?"


	13. Ficlet 13 :: Mochi

**Mochi**

Innocence in its purest form. Those wide, bright eyes just sparkling. Wondering thoughts about nothing in particular. Nothing that worries them. Joy and laughter and sometimes tears, but never pain. Never the heart-wrenching pain.

Children of a new era. Children born of peace and war and blood. They would never have to witness the sadness, the hopelessness, of the Bakumatsu.

Never would they have to stare into the face of a lifeless man.

At the moment, all they cared about was the mochi that was in front of them.

"Ayame, Suzume, would you like some mochi I made?

"Yes please!"


	14. Ficlet 14 :: Forbidden

**Forbidden**

She wasn't supposed to have any feelings for him. She was the fearless Okashira of the Oniwa-Banshu. And he? He was a feared assassin who worked under the command of Shishio Makoto, a madman, in her opinion, trying to take over Japan and its new government!

So why did her heart flutter so quickly whenever she saw him, whenever he unconsciously moved closer to her? Why did her cheeks bloom with the vivid color of wild strawberries?

His eyes, once so empty, haunted her thoughts, her opinions, her very nightly dreams.

Was it possible there was forbidden love for them?


	15. Ficlet 15 :: Tigress

**Tigress**

Even though slavery ended years ago, Tsubame still felt the need to be obedient. She felt the urge to listen to those around her. She... She thought she was a pawn, used and only used.

She was too meek to say anything, even if what she was set out to do was wrong. A timid phrase and a slap. It was a routine until she learned her lesson.

Then she met _him_. He who gave her courage. She was no longer the sweet, shy girl who listened to others—was forced to be like that.

She could become a tigress.


	16. Ficlet 16 :: Stew

**Stew**

It's feverishly attacking his body from dawn to dusk. There was no rest when your skin was like that. You have constant power—and nowhere to display it, no one to proudly boast of it to.

The slash of the sword does not frighten him. The depths of Hell... Nothing... Did he fear injury?

No...

The world had gone to a point where everything was cast in a pot—you could be salt, flavoring the whole nation with commands, or you could be the water, turning into broth whenever the government ordered you to be.

Shishio, of course, was the pepper.


	17. Ficlet 17 :: Impossible

**Impossible**

How was this possible? She, who had thought she had loved her Aoshi-sama so, now in love with one she had never imagined? Tenken no Soujiro...

What did he think of her? He looked to her with innocent eyes, charming smiles, and never disrespected her on purpose. He was so... good. Sweet. Endearing. Empty.

That is her job... To fill him up, to teach him the emotions he never had a chance to experience as a child. So... That's why, even though she received strange looks for it, she opened her doors—and her confused heart—to Seta Soujiro.

The man.


	18. Ficlet 18 :: Thankful

**Thankful**

There he was again, leaning against the post outside, chewing something as always. The sight was familiar and endearing, and she felt happy inside. He couldn't see, of course, but she was happy to see him.

If it wasn't for him, she would be dead. She wouldn't be a doctor, treating the helpless. She wouldn't have friends like the ones she had now. She wouldn't have known to love with her heart and not her head.

Megumi walked out of her clinic with a smile, looping her arm around his.

She was, without a doubt, thankful to have him.


	19. Ficlet 19 :: Silver

**Silver**

Being 'bad' was sweet, but it could satisfy only so much. What he craved was revenge. Retribution towards the one man that had stolen his sister—and his happiness.

The desire that kept him thinking every single night... What he needed was a chance. What he needed was for a sign.

But... He was weak. He knew that, if he even dared, he would be cut down from where he stood. The man had the title of the strongest of the bloody war that had ruined lives.

His sister's fiancé, Akira. His sister, Tomoe. And him... Enishi with silver hair.


	20. Ficlet 20 :: Of Nothing

**Of Nothing**

In his mind, there was nothing but a swirling mess of emptiness. Nothing in particular. Nothing but buried memories that were stomped down repeatedly so he would not, could not, ever think of the fear that had lead him to this single bit of hell.

To bury oneself so emotions could never resurface meant to give up your soul. The ultimate price...

But... When you wanted to forget, needed to never again have those feelings, you gladly tore your soul to pieces. And that is exactly what he did...

Tenken no Soujiro.

The boy who would never live.


	21. Ficlet 21 :: Wisdom

**Wisdom**

"Saitou, are you sure you don't want to use a spot of dye? You're looking a little silver at the temples."

Pah! Women! Who did they think they were? He was the 3rd Captain of the Shinsengumi! Hair dye! With age came wisdom, as they say, and he was getting all the more wise. His back was still ruler straight, his eyes still as piercing as ever. His hair... Well, there has to be some sense of change.

"Get out of the way, old man!"

On the other hand, perhaps a little touch up would do him good.


	22. Ficlet 22 :: Fairy Tale

**Fairy Tale**

When she was young and naive, she had dreamed of having a fairy tale prince rescuing her from her life. He would sweep her off her feet, and bring her to his castle of dreams. They would have lain next to each other all day, talking of life and a land without tears.

She smiled bitterly. Here was her life now. Her brother could die trying to protect their followers–and she already was. Maybe months, maybe weeks, maybe days, but in the end...

She would die, and no one would ever know her true name.

I am Sayo.


	23. Ficlet 23 :: Caught

**Caught**

He didn't mean to do it. In the end, he realized that he never did, never wanted to. The feelings of anger and bitterness had won him over, smothering his soul. He knew that one day...

He remembered–so clearly–crushing the man's head between his hands, watching as his eyes rolled back and felt the struggles. The blood had come from the eyes first... It felt so sweet to bring revenge to his children.

However, this wasn't a way to life. Killing would never bring anyone back.

Sitting in the jail cell, thinking, Anji remembered the past and the words.


	24. Ficlet 24 :: Rented

**Rented**

It was what she did before she met Shishio, you know. A woman who sold—rented, really— her body and companionship to any man who could pay. A beautiful, pale face, perfect hair the slender body that kept slipping out of its loose kimono, made to hide and disguise, and, of course, the voice as smooth as silk and as tempting as a just-ripened cherry.

She was no common whore, of course. She was expensive, even to Oiran standards. However, it was her only way of surviving. Was it really her fault that she became this?

No... Damn the Meiji government.


	25. Ficlet 25 :: Goddess

**Goddess**

When they saw him, they envisioned a monstrous killer. A demon captain. A feared member of society. However, he knew the truth. He looked to her and knew...

She put up with his tantrums, with his nightmares of which he told no one, and most of all, stood up for herself when he acted like a pompous moron. She raised his children and balanced life in general.

He smiled as he remembered what the Battousai and the Weasel Girl said back then. They did know what they were saying after all.

His wife, Saitou's wife, really is a goddess.


	26. Ficlet 26 :: Fulfilled Dreams

**Fulfilled Dreams**

He watched her chest rise in fall in a slow and steady rhythm, a slight smile on her lips. She was beautiful in the afterglow, and, feeling just a bit proud, he knew he was the cause of that. The long, spiky lashes, dark against her pale skin... Her long, silky hair, unbound by the usual sapphire ribbon that matched her eyes...

She was his sweet salvation, the one who had saved him from a lifetime of wandering. She was the answer to his dreams, the one who had saved him from his nightmares.

She was his Kaoru.


	27. Ficlet 27 :: Late

**Late**

She didn't love him anymore, and he knew why. He was late, far too late, to be the one. He could no longer dry her tears, or even attempt to. She didn't feel for him like she used to. She would have gone through hell and back for him, for his damned, wretched soul, but he was too intent on being the strongest.

His poor, broken soul. That tattered spirit that fed on memories and the thought that someday, he would be graced with the ultimate title. And she could–would–no longer heal it.

Aoshi was five years too late.


	28. Ficlet 28 :: Beautiful

**Beautiful**

You are most beautiful when you are happy, Vixen. You are the most lovely when you are helping your patients, because healing people and remembering your father's legacy makes you happy. And even when you are not, you elude the sense of passion that other women could only dream of faking.

You are beautiful because your soul has experienced pain and you have lived through that. You flash me that teasing grin and I fall under your spell.

You are beautiful and I cannot have you, because I am too young, too brash, too frustratingly '_SANO!_' for your tastes.


	29. Ficlet 29 :: Perhaps

**Perhaps**

I look down at you, at those people who love you and care for you, who have so much damned faith in you. I don't know exactly why, but I know that it's because you understand them, and because you are brave.

Look at me. I am stronger than you, and have more experience with you, but I am not as brave as you. I was afraid of more pain that my blade has brought me. I hid up in the mountains, behind the cocky grin and sake.

Stupid apprentice, perhaps you are not as stupid as I thought.


	30. Ficlet 30 :: Neither

**Neither**

I know you do not notice me because I am not strong enough for your tastes. Though I can beat any man, except for you and that smiling brat, I am still not strong enough for you. I cannot understand you like that whore does, but at the same time, I cannot be a burden either.

You acknowledge me with the respect you give all of the Juppon Gatana. You do not see that under this exterior I do love you, do fight for you. I'd do absolutely anything for you.

You only see someone neither strong or beautiful.


	31. Ficlet 31 :: Rat

**Rat**

It's icy cold, but the excitement in the air stopped him from feeling the freezing air. Instead, his amber eyes narrow as he spots the target, stepping quietly from the doorway.

The man's gaze darts as he tries to spot danger in the dark Kyoto streets.

He looks like a rat, and he wishes desperately that the Shinsengumi had offered to protect him. He knows he has enough money to pay them well for their services. It was a price he was willing to pay for his life.

He didn't know that _he_, the Battousai, had already taken it.


	32. Ficlet 32 :: Warrior

**Warrior**

Her delicate-boned hands reached out towards him, reaching for his floating form, crimson hair flowing with the waves. She swam past the memories and dove past the druids that haunted his soul. Crossing the icy river to wrap him in her arms, keeping him safe.

She made her promises and kept them. She sheltered him from his nightmares and shielded him from his fears.

Whatever it was, she would run after him. She would die just to see those amethyst eyes looking into hers.

Her Kenshin. Her beloved warrior.

Would he ever know how hard she had fought for him?


	33. Ficlet 33 :: Calling

**Calling**

Sano's calling for you, they say. They found him bleeding into the ground and dying. He's still calling for you. He wants to see you one last time.

You enter the room that smells of herbal medicine and cloth bandages. You are used to the smell because you are usually surrounded by it.

And blood. The scent of coppery blood hits you as you near him, his body wrapped in those same bandages. They cover him.

"I still love you," he says, almost bitterly as he smiles.

You turn away, and later cry, because you still love him too.


	34. Ficlet 34 :: Demons

**Demons**

The demons writhe inside him. He will never be able to release them, and in the end, they will devour him. For every memory of a kill, there is another monster, ravenous for his sanity. He could only fight them for so long before the odds were turned, and he was consumed.

The demons didn't scare him, nor the thoughts of what was to come. It was the thoughts of his lover that he cared about the most. She cared for him so deeply—and _that_ scared him.

Could he have planted the demons in her, too?

"_I'm sorry, Kaoru..._"


	35. Ficlet 35 :: Renewal

**Renewal**

She pants from the pain and exhaustion. Beads of sweat rolls down her forehead as she clenches her teeth, another contraction ripping her apart.

"Keep going, Kaoru! You're almost there!"

Megumi is calling her. She is reassuring her.

She allows the voice to guide her as the final contraction shreds her insides. And then—a cry of a child.

It is finally over.

Megumi brings the baby over, tears in her eyes. "He looks just like Ken-san," she tells her, her lips curved into a grin.

Kaoru smiles as she looks down onto her son. Megumi is right.

Rebirth.

Renewal.


	36. Ficlet 36 :: Proportion

**Proportion**

His senses sharpened as he heard voices... _Feminine _voices.

"Are you sure? A man's sword...? In proportion?"

"They're in direct proportion, Kaoru-chan. _Direct_."

"Well, you _are _the doctor!"

Boisterous laughter.

At the moment, all the Shinsengumi at their prime couldn't scare him like these two women.

"Well, I suppose that's why Sanosuke's so _cocky_, right? Because his sword's so big?"

More laughter.

"I distinctly remember Ken-san breaking that sword..."

"Yes, with his smaller sword."

"And you love it that way!"

"Megumi!"

Kenshin walked away, shaking his head to himself. Somehow, he didn't _want _to know.


	37. Ficlet 37 :: Patience

**Patience**

Patience.

It's amazing how he had passed through ten years of wandering and not felt this bored. It was amazing how he could save hundreds of people and still feel a rush.

He shakes his flame-colored hair back away from his face as he looks intently into the water. The bamboo pole is as still as it was when he had dropped the line an hour ago.

Patience.

Kaoru-dono is expecting his help in bringing home some food. He is, after all, living off of her money.

The line moves from a breeze and Kenshin sighs.

Fishing for patience.


	38. Ficlet 38 :: Snow

**Snow**

The sun dips below the horizon and he feels the snow starting to fall more heavily upon his body. He is not cold, or perhaps he is so numb he cannot feel the cold. In any case, he walks on.

He is searching for his sister's grave. It is the anniversary of her death and the guilt has driven him back here.

He marches on.

Trees without leaves guide him. The silence welcomes him in.

He finds the clearing. He falls onto his knees and looks at the charred clearing, empty still.

Hands on the snow.

'_Forgive me, sister._'


	39. Ficlet 39 :: Bamboo

**Bamboo**

Shinomori Aoshi breathes deep and drinks in the bamboo forest. It is dark, misty, and cool. His fingers form a bowl and his eyes close.

Meditation is an art, and there is no way to rush a muse.

He enjoys the silence and barely remembers not to strain his ears for the voices of his dead comrades. His demons have been put to rest; that's the reason why he's hidden behind the bamboo now, not the temple. The peace of being away from memories... It's intoxicating.

Now, perhaps he can let himself smile.

From behind him, the sun rises.


	40. Ficlet 40 :: Iris

**Iris**

It would be a lie to say she was raised as he was–a peasant, she knew, that was used to back-breaking work. It would also be a lie to say that she wasn't amazed at his form when he killed. It was a kind of ritualistic dance that she couldn't seem to forget.

Her umbrella wobbled, threatened to fall, as she was swept away by the morbid beauty, the savagery she had witnessed.

Startling contrast.

His blade. The rain. The corpse before her.

The blood splatters on her white kimono.

The umbrella falls.

An iris blooms in the rain.


	41. Ficlet 41 :: Foxy

**Foxy**

If one had passed the Dojo right at that particular moment, they would have been struck by how insanely foxy the usually composed lady-doctor looked.

Her eyes were sly slanted, her grin wicked. One could imagine the vixen tail and ears popping up right at that moment, could see her tongue sweeping across those tantalizing lips in anticipation.

If one had passed the Dojo right at that particular moment, they would have also heard a masculine voice asking what she was doing hiding suspiciously behind the bushes. One would have heard a heart-stopping answer.

"I'm testing my new aphrodisiac."


	42. Ficlet 42 :: Still

**Still**

"Aoshi-sama?"

"Hm."

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere, Misao."

"But then why's your bag filled? And Beshimi-kun said—"

"Nowhere, Misao."

Silence.

"Aoshi-sama?"

"Hm."

"If you ever left, would you miss me?"

"Aa."

"I would miss you too. So don't leave, okay?"

Silence.

"It's late, Misao."

"Oh! But..."

"Good night, Misao."

"You too, Aoshi-sama! Sweet dreams!"

The last words she said to him rang in her mind, because even though he was back, looking into her eyes expectantly, she was still a child inside, one that had been abandoned.

_What would she say now?_


	43. Ficlet 43 :: Lapdog

**Lapdog**

Brilliance was something he had always known he had possessed. The power of organization, of knowledge, was something he had always had in hand. But... There was no faith, no cause, nothing to fight for, nothing to work towards. The government was weak and had no true goals.

That was why, when the demon of the Meiji had come towards him with words and single-minded determination, he had taken the collar, gladly put it on. He would be led towards something he would be glad to die for.

If they called him the demon's lapdog, then so be it.


	44. Ficlet 44 :: Secrets

**Secrets**

The blood he finds in the handkerchief scared him the first time he saw it. The bright crimson he had seen so often now on his skin and clothes, on the streets, was now in the pristine white of the bleached cloth, standing out like a lie to all he had ever known.

It became his little secret. The hacking cough, the handkerchief, the cloth. The smoky flames as he burns the evidence, burns the secret so he can forget that it ever happened. He kills, dies inside. The blood he sheds stain the secrets.

The secrets that kill...


	45. Ficlet 45 :: Redemption

**Redemption**

He sits in his cell in Hokkaido. His feet are numb from sitting in the same position for too long and the cold. He is getting weaker and weaker from lack of exercise his muscles are used to.

He smiles. Anji the Destroyer is becoming Anji the Ghost.

Good.

Perhaps now he can be redeemed from his crimes. The people he killed in the name of retribution and vengeance can now rest peacefully knowing he is locked up.

The ashes of the innocent surrounding his eyes are fading. So are the bloodstains.

He smiles. Anji is being forgiven.

Good.


	46. Ficlet 46 :: Pain

**Pain**

The pain had been so excruciatingly sweet that he had cried. It wasn't like the hunger pangs he had felt as a child, nor as his body after that first workout his boss had put him through.

No, this was what loyalty was. This is what it felt like to do something so outrageous, you knew there was no going back. To create the demon face to mirror his demon soul was what he had always wanted to do. Crush the bones, cut off the ears, burn the lips. The pain is good. The pain is for immortal loyalty.


End file.
